Supernova
by xShadowx7
Summary: They say your life flashes before your eyes when you’re about to die; I should know. My name is Regulus Black and I’ve done the stupidest thing a Death Eater can do: betray Voldemort. Regfic of his life, tries to follow books.
1. Slipping Away

Supernova

Slipping Away

'No one mourns the wicked- no one cries: "They won't return!"'- "No One Mourns the Wicked" Wicked

A/N: This story has been floating around in my head for a while now, so it had to come out! For those worried about Unite or Fall, I will still be writing it, just expect delays! Well, hope everyone enjoys it!

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There was a spider in the corner, weaving a silky web.

I never liked spiders very much- in fact, my brother always called me a girl when I expressed my sentiments to him…

Curse such thoughts! Here I am, to be killed at any moment, and I'm reminiscing!

Well, I suppose it's normal for a dead man. They say your life flashes before your eyes when you're about to die. My question is: who are 'they'? How would they know if they haven't died?

Again, I'm rambling about nothing in particular.

However, I don't believe I've ever introduced myself. My name is Regulus Black and I've done the stupidest thing a Death Eater can do: betray Voldemort.

You see, Voldemort created something called a horcrux. It holds a piece of Voldemort's soul, ensuring him a sort of immortality. From what I was able to discern, Voldemort made 7 horcruxes, which is very dangerous. With so little soul left in his body with the rest far away from him, he is in danger of being overcome by darkness.

But Voldemort never sees the disadvantages to his plans, just the rewards. He saw the opportunity for immortality and he took it.

He gave an unknown number of his horcruxes to trusted Death Eaters (myself included) to hide them away and protect them from any harm. While the others dutifully hid the objects, never knowing what exactly they held, I was curious- too curious for my own good. So, I researched (a very boring enterprise), but I never got very far.

With Voldemort impatient to have his secret objects hidden, I had no choice but to do as he said. Then, as if to get all of the Death Eaters' minds off his strange order, he sent us all on a number of raids. We were so busy that we barely had time to think, much less sleep, which was exactly what he wanted.

When Voldemort finally eased up on his nightly raids, nearly everyone had forgotten about the incident. Nearly. I had not forgotten.

I happened upon the book by accident. I don't recall its title now, but I do remember that I found it in the Black Library. I was searching for another book and found that one instead.

It was then that I discovered exactly what Voldemort had done: that was part of the reason I betrayed him; I was sickened by it.

Resolved, and very delusional at the time, I took the (now identified) horcrux from where I had hidden it. I made plans to destroy it, though I had no idea how to do so.

In the end, however, I had to hide it again: this time from Voldemort **and** the world. There was not enough time for me to destroy it and I still had no idea how to get rid of the thing.

The next meeting Voldemort called was one of my best and worst…

Somehow he knew- perhaps his Legilimency was too strong, or my defenses were too weak, maybe I wasn't careful enough about taking the horcrux- but he knew. He drew out his performance like the drama queen that he is (such a delightful muggle phrase!) before calling out that someone had betrayed him and he said that person was me.

There was no need for denials- I had done what he accused and I was glad I had. I told him so.

Voldemort might have an army of Death Eaters to command, but I had the pleasure of spitting in his face- literally.

Of course I was thrown in to this cell right after. Apparently, Voldemort wasn't quite done with me yet- probably wanted to rave some more to make him feel better.

The meeting was a while ago- I've lost track of the time, but I'm not worried.

Strange isn't it? I'm not worried about my eminent death. I'm…carefree.

I pulled a fast one up on Voldemort! Who else has done something like that? No one. It's exhilarating to think that I defied the dark lord and that he'll never find his missing horcrux.

But… sometimes, especially at night when the stars are out, I wish none of this had ever happened. That my brother and I had been born to another family…

I wish that Sirius and I were still as close as we used to be, before everything went down the tubes…

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Review please! 


	2. Times are Changing

Supernova

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A/N: Sorry, sorry, sorry! I know I haven't updated in forever, but I've been very busy and had some writer's block. For Unite and Fall, I'm working on it, but I've hit a snag, so don't expect it soon. I just, and i mean just, finished this chapter so it isn't very edited, and frankly, i don't really have the time. So, if anyone is interested in being my beta, please tell me!! It would be great! Please review, I'm open to suggestions, but do be nice if you please- Enjoy!

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Times are Changing 

"Those nights were ours/ They will live and never die/ Together we'd stand forever" - 'Those Nights' Skillet

My mother was never kind. For as long as I can remember- probably from the time I was born- I never heard a true endearment or a kind word come from her lips. In fact, Walburga Black made certain Sirius and I never did the same; at least not in her presence, nor in front of other 'upstanding' (and usually dark) families.

We were instructed in the ways of the purebloods from the time we could understand and obey orders. We could only address her as 'Mother', or use the title of ma'am when speaking to her. 'Sirs' and 'Madams' were frequently heard in our household. We were told firmly that we, as sons of the most noble house of Black, were set apart from the rest of the world and, along with certain worthy others, had the distinction to…_guide_ the wizarding world back to its former glory.

'The magical realm is slowly being destroyed!' my mother used to rave, 'and all because of those mudbloods and traitors!" Most lessons were taken over by such rants, and by the time I was five, I was convinced that mudbloods were horrible monsters that sucked the magic right out of you and I wanted nothing to do with them.

Mother taught us daily, and, at times, it was for most of the day. She only fed us facts and ideas that she, herself, believed in and what she had been taught. We were too young to know any better and were much too brainwashed to even dare question the truth of her information. We believed every word, as we were expected to.

Though we knew not to expect displays of affection, that didn't stop us from craving them. Our mother was the one whom controlled the household and made all of the basic decisions, so it was her that we tried our best to please. Nothing ever worked. Every so often we received a nod, but rarely did we get a pat on the head. The best reaction ever recorded (yes, Sirius and I did keep a record) was a slight grimace that could have resembled a smile. Most of the time, however, we were ignored, scolded or hit. Mother never cared for us.

The same was true for my father, though I suspect it was more because he was exceedingly distant from the rest of the family. He was always holed up in his office and nothing could pry him from it except for such necessities as eating, or if there was an emergency. My father was known as, 'Orion Black? He's a bit of a recluse isn't he? Though he did do an amazing bit on his house wards.'

It was true: my father was always working on finances or politics or wards- never on his family. He was always as hand in the way that he was only upstairs, but he was never there when we needed him.

Perhaps Father would have cared more if he had spent more time with Sirius and me, but he didn't and we hated him for it. Perhaps Father could have taken control of the family if Mother hadn't already taken up the reins. Perhaps I could have learned to love him if I had ever met him; I don't even know how I was created between two such people as my mother and father. But it didn't matter because it was all perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

Sirius was basically the only family I had and needed. We were best friends and brothers. We could never be split apart. He was my guardian angel; he even yelled at Mother for making me cry. He was 'punished' for that, but he never complained.

After that, something in him changed. He no longer submitted to some things Mother tried to force upon him. She would rage and slap him but he continued to refuse her. Sirius always told me to stay out of it, but I always listened with horror at the door.

He became my hero through his defiance and an idiot whenever he grimaced after I hugged him. But that didn't matter, Sirius once said, because his eyes had suddenly opened and he realized something was wrong.

'But Mother says we have a good life!' I remembered protesting. Sirius had smirked with a far-off look in his eyes, 'Exactly.' I never understood his meaning.

Never-the-less, Sirius and I spent every scrap of spare time together if we could. Sometimes, when it looked like Mother had forgotten about lessons, we'd sneak up to Mother and Father's room (she would never look there) and hide out on their balcony. We'd smuggle chocolate and sweets into the house by owl order, and then ate them in the middle of the night under the covers. It was always amusing to see Mother's reaction to our over-sugared states in the morning.

However, my favorite time of all with Sirius was when we stargazed. We would climb out of Sirius' window up onto the roof. I never liked heights (just like spiders), but I knew he would never let me fall. We lay up there until we were sure Mother and Father were asleep, and then Sirius would show me the sky. He pointed out Mars, the North Star and the two Dippers. He drew his finger across Orion's belt- Father's constellation- and he showed me Cousin Andromeda. He rarely spoke of the other Blacks, even from the past, and flatly refused to mention Cousin Bellatrix. Sirius hated her.

He was the first to show me my own star, but he was always surprised when I asked him about his own star- the Dog Star.

I treasured these moments when we weren't always on our guard for fear of Mother catching us. They were special times when it was just me and Sirius, brother-brother time. I knew that eventually things would change, it was certain, but I never expected that the time would go by so soon.

After what only seemed a few seconds, it was time for Sirius to be off to Hogwarts. Mother took Sirius to Diagon Alley for his supplies while I was left with Father… which actually meant I had no one.

Sirius seemed to have changed again when he came bounding back into the room a few hours later. His eyes were alit with a brilliant fire that startled me at first. The already drab colors of the room faded even more in comparison with them.

He raved passionately about the magical wonders he had experienced, all of the new Hogwarts students he had seen (some he had been forced to meet), and, then, he proudly presented me with his wand.

It was a simple thing, really, for such glorious tales of what wands could do- it was just a piece of wood. Still, I took it reverently and froze when a slight, unseen breeze ruffled my hair.

When I turned my shocked face up to him, Sirius was merely smiling in a knowing way. He took back the magical instrument and placed it carefully up the sleeve of his jumper. Suddenly, the Sirius I knew came back full force and we both ran upstairs for one last night of fun before he was gone.

The trip to Platform 9 ¾ to deliver Sirius to the train was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. Only Sirius' arm about my shoulders and his firm grip kept me from falling. My knees and hands still shook.

The platform was full of children and parents saying their goodbyes. Kids were hauling around trunks or cages, meeting friends, or giving their parents one last hug before boarding. My chin gave a slight tremor at the sight.

Sirius' farewell to our parents was stiff and cold. He recited the expected phrases and said no more than that. His face was set in stony mask… until he turned to me.

I only saw his face crumple for an instant before my face became buried in his shoulder. He gripped me hard, his face somewhere in my hair. I instantly clasped him as hard as I could. It only felt like a second when Sirius abruptly let go, turned, picked up his belongings and walked toward the train.

Mother began to drag me away by the collar. I scrambled to get my balance and take another look at Sirius, but she continued to jerk on me. In a flash, we were back into the muggle part of the station and there was no chance of seeing Sirius again until Christmas.

My face felt wet, and when I quickly swiped at one cheek, my hand came back damp and salty. I had been crying; I had been so numb that I hadn't noticed.

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The House of Black seemed very empty and void of life once we returned home. I had only sat down on a chair when the emotions came rolling in: Sirius had just left. My best friend had just left. I was alone. I was truly and completely alone. And it was only then when I found that the shoulder of my jumper was moist. 

Sirius had been crying too.

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Please review!!!


	3. The Black Heir

Supernova

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A/N: Well, haven't uploaded in a long while, but I just got into a writing frenzy and had to post. It isn't edited very well as a result I'm afraid. Excuse any errors you might find. But otherwise, enjoy the latest chapter of this fic and leave me a little review telling me what you think! Have fun reading.

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The Black Heir

Much of the rest of that day and evening was a blur of Mother muttering about how Sirius 'had better not disgrace the family name', but how could he ever do that? Sirius was well-versed in pureblood customs, so he would know how to act as the heir of the Black family should behave. He was intelligent; he picked things up so quickly that I even felt a bit jealous, as it made Mother sometimes look upon him with something almost resembling pride. He was ambitious and sly enough to sneakily nick Mother's wand from right under her nose just so he could try out a 'wicked' spell he had found in a curse and jinx book.

But, as I tried to explain this to Mother (leaving out the bit about Sirius stealing her wand of course), she merely sniffed and left the room in a swirl of dull-colored robes. I was left feeling even more alone, standing silently in the parlor and staring blankly at the worn rug beneath my feet.

I had certainly been brushed off by Mother many times before, but now my brother was no longer there to step up beside me, bump my shoulder with his and share a wistful smile with me before saying 'better off without her, I'd say'. And I had never known how true this was until the next morning.

After a horrible night of gazing up at the ceiling instead of the stars, I stumbled down the stairs after being woken up by shrieks and loud voices. Peeking in through the cracked open door into the dining room, I found Mother and Father at breakfast- though not eating a bit of it. Mother was on her feet and pacing the length of the table waving a piece of parchment about in the air and ranting and raving, only pausing to tear at her hair and let out a piercing shriek of rage. Father was calmer, or at least he wasn't running about the room. He sat very still, though he was trembling a bit- perhaps from anger?- and he looked as if he had meant to put down his cup of tea at one point, but then had forgotten he held it so his hand was suspended a few inches above the table. He sat with his back to me so I never knew was his expression was at that moment.

It only took a few minutes for me to discern what was going on. Sirius had gone and done exactly what Mother had been fretting about- disgrace the family. He had been sorted into Gryffindor. Not Slytherin.

"Why not Ravenclaw?!" Mother raved, throwing up her arms. "The Black family could have lived with the disgrace of a son in _that_ house, but no, the brat **had **to sorted into _Gryffindor_," she sneered nastily.

Father suddenly seemed to come to his senses- or he finally wondered why his arm was so tired- and set down his cup. The slight clatter it made seemed to remind Mother that there was another person in the room.

"And do know what's worse? I had to hear all of this from Argenta Malfoy*!" Mother growled, brandishing the parchment she held crumpled in her fist in Father's face. "She _dared_ to send _me_ a cool and ridiculing letter about how her son Lucius was 'ever so disappointed that the heir of the Black line ended up a pureblood traitor in Gryffindor' and wondering about how _I_ was raising my sons!"

This speech seemed to be too much for Mother, as she broke off her rant to Father and resumed her pacing, though now she was only muttering angrily to herself.

My eyes were as wide as saucers and I felt dizzy. My brother was a traitor. Had I been wrong all my life in looking up to him? Surely this whole mess was a mistake! But as my heart denied, my mind brought up proof right before my eyes.

Sirius _was_ well-versed in pureblood customs, but he never truly took to them as an heir of an old pureblood family should. He_ was_ intelligent, which possibly could have gotten him into Ravenclaw- but Ravenclaw was also _not_ Slytherin. When he took Mother's wand just to try a spell, he wasn't being ambitious or sly; he acted brashly and without much thought. Gryffindor traits. And to think I had _admired_ his 'bravery' whenever he stood up to Mother and they shouted insults at each other until Mother ended it by either leaving or giving him a backhand slap.

Sirius had always made fun of Mother's lessons, and I had laughed along with him. But I had always thought he had been poking fun at Mother's rather…zealous way of teaching, throwing her hands about and pacing the room- not the material. He hated meeting dark pureblood families and getting to know the children, preferring to stand moodily in a corner (and behind vegetation if he could find any) while I loved the fact that I had the opportunity to make friends and watch the elegant ways the adults mingled and greeted one another.

_ Yessssss_, a slippery voice in my head murmured, _yessssss. Your brother isssss a traitor to thisssss family. He issss no longer to be trusted. He wassss ssssorted into Gryffindor. The houssssse of the ssssssimple-minded and foolish Light. He issss now one of them._

_ No!_ I cried. _It cannot be! He's my brother! The Light can't have him!_

_ It isssss too late,_ the voice sneered, _the Light will poissssson hisssss mind againssssst you. He will become a friend to other pureblood tratiorsssss and mudbloodssssss. He will no longer be the brother you usssssed to know. Once he crosssssssessssssss_ (A/N crosses) _the Line to the other sssssssside, there isssss nothing you can do to bring him back. He isssssss GONE. _

This was too much. I ran.

I forgot all pureblood customs and rules as I raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time; rage consuming my mind and tears filling my eyes and overflowing. My slippers came off as I flew on down the hall until I stopped, gasping, at Sirius' room.

There was absolutely nothing I could see that hinted at Gryffindor-ish-ness.

What had happened?! my mind screamed. My life had been fine- not great- but fine before Sirius had left. And now everything was spinning out of control and collapsing in on itself.

"Traitor." my lips formed. "Sirius. Traitor." The words clashed and sounded so wrong when they were put together that I clamped my mouth shut.

This had to be a joke. Sirius couldn't be a _traitor_. He was, of course, willful and a rebel at times, but surely it was just a child's rebellion against his parents. Sirius wouldn't totally disobey Mother and throw himself in with the Gryffindor lot. It _had_ to be some sort of a prank. Sirius liked those. Any minute now, a letter would come in for us gaily saying he had roped Lucius Malfoy into helping him with his prank and how he was actually in Slytherin where he belonged. Mother would rage for a bit more, but then come to a calm again. Father would humph as he always did and return to his study. And I, I would have my brother back again.

So I waited. I sat in the middle of Sirius' room and stared out his window, searching intently for any sign of an owl winging its way to our house. My nose and eyes itched from crying and my face was sticky from dried tears, but I didn't move from my spot.

An hour passed. Nothing. Two hours. Nothing. By the third hour, I snuck down the stairs, convinced that I had somehow missed the owl and that Mother and Father were reading Sirius' letter without me. But I stopped at the bottom. The house was almost silent, except for distant screaming from behind a closed door down the hall where, no doubt, Mother was constructing a Howler to send, and the house elf Kreacher muttering about blood traitors while he swept. Father, however, I found, was not in his study.

I discovered him silently gazing at our family tapestry. Father was running his hand along it, tracing the lines until he came to himself and our family. He ran his thumb over Sirius' name, before dropping his hand and looked over at me hovering in the doorway.

He beckoned me to his side and together we looked at our great and noble family history. And then, to my utter astonishment, Father began to speak quietly, almost as if to himself.

"The Black family is old and full of rich history. Our ancestors can be traced back to what the _Muggles_ (this Father sneered) call 'the Middle Ages'. We have always been rich. We have always been respected. And…we have always been Slytherin."

Here I had to look away, almost feeling ashamed myself. But, Father, it seemed, was on a talking streak.

"Mother wanted to blast Sirius off this tapestry," Father continued, pausing to reach out and touch Sirius' name again, "but I could not allow it."

This news however, made me look up at him as he sighed wearily, his eyes still far away. "I do not know if I believe Sirius is in Gryffindor, but if he is, I still believe that he will soon see sense and stop this madness. And I will not see my family fall apart like this."

I doubted that Sirius would ever change once he had started walking the Light path, but my respect in my father still grew after hearing him speak of our family in that way. My admiring gaze on my father's face drew his eyes to me.

"Come," Father said pulling out a handkerchief and, wetting it with a single spell, started scrubbing at my face to get the tear tracks off my cheeks, "I have an idea of how to found out the truth about where Sirius was sorted. We must get Mother."

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A few minutes later found the three of us in the upstairs hall, facing the portrait of Phineas Nigellus, an ancestor of mine. I began to catch on to Father's idea. Phineas also had a portrait hanging in the headmaster's office in Hogwarts since he had been a headmaster of Hogwarts himself once. He might know Sirius' true house.

My Father bowed respectfully to the man in the portrait, who gave a sharp nod back before saying in a grouchy tone, "Yes, yes, I know all about what you have to ask of me Orion Black. You and your family wish to know if Sirius Black, your heir, has been sorted into Gryffindor, as you have been told. Well, the answer is yes. He has indeed been sorted into Gryffindor. Dumbledore was just in here remarking on it."

Mother turned pale, and stood silent, both hands rising to press against her chest and crushing the Howler she had yet to send. Father's face became grim and he gave a short nod as if he had expected this news and left for his study. Mother left soon after, her lips still white from pressing them together. I was numb and disbelieving.

Phineas was known for being cruel and insensitive, and would lie at times- but not with something like this. The hope that I had unknowingly let swell after Father's speech was no longer there to buoy me up and so my world was once again crashing down around my ears. I couldn't stop it.

The house was now perfectly silent, and my ears were ringing painfully from the emptiness of it. Nothing made sense. The pedestal I had placed Sirius creaked, groaned and then shattered. And with that explosion, something else exploded in my chest and suddenly my mind was only focused on one thing: destruction.

Sirius had destroyed my world in one swoop, so it was only fair that I destroy his. His room was as close as I felt I could get to his world at the moment. There wasn't much there, as he had taken most of things with him to school and even then, both our rooms were quite barren in any case.

Still, I swept everything from the top of his desk, watching in satisfaction as his ink well smashed on the floor. I tossed all his books on the ground and stomped on them, ripping pages and crushing bindings, then upset the small bookcase. I tore the few clothes he had left behind into rags and reduced the beddings into strips. I kicked at the desk chair until one of the legs splintered and broke off and the back seemed almost ready to do the same. I dashed the contents of the desk's only drawer across the room and then tossed the drawer after. I snatched up a letter opener that had come from the drawer and slashed the mattress. The arm chair that Sirius liked to read in soon followed. Then, I grabbed his pillow and hit it against the wall until it burst in a cloud of feathers.

I stood heaving in air as the feathers rained down on me and realized none of it mattered. Destroying Sirius' room had done nothing. He was still a blood traitor and still in Gryffindor. And nothing would ever be the same again.

I lost a part of my soul that day that I suppose I never got back until it was too late.

The door clicked open and Mother came in. She walked towards, not even noticing the mess, with a strange maniacal gleam in her eyes that made me shiver and almost take a step back. She put out a hand and caressed my cheek softly.

"You are the Black heir now," she crooned.

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* Lucius Malfoy's mother was never named, so I just came up with a name myself.

Also, Orion Black (Sirius and Regulus' father) was always known as distant from the family and I took him to be somewhat of a scholar from the fact that he studied wards. And, as a Black, he is proud of his family heritage. But, I like to think there is a little more to his character. When he is speaking to Regulus about how 'Mother' wanted to blast Sirius off the family tapestry and he had stopped her (I'm not sure if this actually happened in the series, as I would think Walburga would want to disown her son the moment he wasn't in Slytherin instead of waiting until he was 16) I took the liberty of putting his two sides into his speech following. He hoped Sirius would come to his senses (his bookish side I thought would make him a rather rational thinker and would think Sirius would only be influenced by the facts and not his emotions). And then the more controversial statement about not letting his family fall apart. This could be seen as his proud side, that he did not want his family line to be ruined (as Andromeda had yet to be married to Ted Tonks and the Uncle hadn't given Sirius money yet when Sirius ran away at 16, so they hadn't been blasted yet) and is more canon. However, I'd like to think his character actually did care for his family in his own way. Still, the line can be taken either way, as the reader chooses.

Wow, sorry about the lesson, but I got so into it, you don't even know =) Please review my hard work!


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